


Dreams

by clubs14



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Time Turner AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 14:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7980679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clubs14/pseuds/clubs14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When dreams start to become more of a reality then the waking hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This was written long before I had any knowledge of what 'The Cursed Child' was about so anything seen as similar is unintentional. Italics are dreams

_ Everything is warm and bright in a way that makes everything seem more inviting perhaps it is the fire in the hearth or the mantle lined with moving photographs. The clock announces the time and the sun streaming in through the window further affirms the fact that it is late afternoon. James will be arriving home soon. He always brings interesting stories, though they are much bleaker as of late. A war is nearing and whatever news he brings home will change their course of action. There is a note on the table and Lily can’t help but glance at it again, the crest clearly identifies it as extremely important. Though she can’t imagine why Dumbledore would be contacting them now after so many months of silence. It’s hard to put the envelope down, it wouldn’t be right to open it without James present. It shouldn’t be much longer anyway. _

 

The alarm starts up and the scene once so clear fades away into the reality that comes with waking. The other side of the bed is empty and cold which means that there is still time to write all the details down without a barrage of questions. Lately these dreams have become more vivid and it’s much easier to remember all the little details if she writes it down right away. There are footsteps outside the bedroom and the notebook is quickly returned to it’s hiding place. Most people would probably share these odd dreams with their partner but this feels different and she knows the man that she married would take it far more seriously than she. With so little known about the significance of these dreams it’s safer to just keep them to herself anyway, at least that’s what she keeps telling herself.

 

The door cracks open and a long hooked nose followed by dark eyes and long dark hair appears, he is smiling in a way that she knows is reserved only for her. It’s hard not to return the look even if her thoughts are still so far away. The smell that is now pouring in through the open door makes her stomach growl and he opens the door wider gesturing her out. Everything appears as any other morning and it all feels so comfortable as she seats herself next to their son and starts feeding him. He is nearly a year old and shares the same eyes as well as the same nose as her, something for which she is incredibly grateful.

 

The rest of the day is uneventful, just going through the motions of a dull job. In the beginning it had been exciting and full of possibilities but as the years went on and nothing changed it had become something to pass the time while also providing a steady pay cheque. Everything seems bland and grey as she makes her way home; recently the muggle ways of transportation have appealed to her more than the fast efficient ones of wizards with more time to relax and read or just simply people watch. 

 

That night brings a forbidding feeling unlike anything that has happened before “in” any of the previous dreams. She knows without a doubt that this one will help her get even closer to the truth, all she has to do is close her eyes and drift off. Unfortunately Severus has always been incredibly good at reading people and he holds her close before falling asleep as if trying to protect her from it. The proximity makes it harder to sleep, and it is late into the night before she is finally able to drift off. 

 

_ The room that she sits in now has all the same photos lining the mantle, but everything else is different it feels almost claustrophobic in its size. Boxes are everywhere -- some open and half unpacked, while the rest are unmoved. Everything feels much darker and yet more clear and she finds herself wondering how she had not seen this coming. There was going to be a war afterall.  _

_ The whole place is quiet and her feet lead her to the nursery, she has a son here too and he doesn't look all that different from the other one. Pulling out a book from one of the few unpacked boxes she sits across from him reading, everything will be fine they will be safe here. _

 

This mantra repeats itself as she is awoken, Sev sits next to her with a look that she has grown to despise. He always seems to know what she is thinking and while comforting at times it also unsettles her. Fleeing to the peace and quiet of the lavatory is a relief and the events of the dream are quickly jotted down. There are hiding places everywhere for the notebooks and soon it will be time to read through all of them from beginning to end. 

 

_ At least the days are growing warmer, _ she muses while on her way to work once more -- it is the only thing that distracts from the images to which she is trying so desperately to cling. That home had seemed so familiar almost like she had spent time there in waking life. No name can be found though and eventually she has no choice but to give up and hope a name will surface in another dream. 

 

By the time night returns once more she finds an excitement mingle with the fear felt on the previous night. With every dream she is edging closer to the truth -- it won't be long now. He holds her close again and this time she drifts off to sound of his voice. 

 

_ The surroundings are the same as last time the only difference being everything is now unpacked. There is a chill in the air that wasn’t so noticeable last time and James is shaking where he sits across from her. The teacup in his hand spilling it’s contents onto his trousers. The fear is palpable and it shakes her to her core. They have fought valiantly in the war, facing Voldemort on three separate occasions. The name sends a shiver through her, she vowed after receiving that letter that she would do everything in her power to prevent it from getting even worse.  _

 

The alarm sounds and the last images are quickly replaced with reality, this morning it seems even more important than ever to write everything down. Now at last there is a name, though one she has never come across before. Whoever Voldemort is he must be the link that is missing from all of the dreams.  

 

Morning goes by fast as she goes through all the same mundane actions of every other day focused instead on the name and the possible meaning behind it. Once awake it always becomes increasingly difficult to understand all the emotions and events that were so clear. At work she finds herself sketching out everything that comes to mind even if it doesn't seem as important. The images could trigger something or become important later. 

 

All day at work is wasted away trying to find out any information on Voldemort but to no avail. It doesn’t matter what records she checks no man by that name whether self titled or not is listed. If it weren’t for the vividness of her dreams she would dismiss it as someone made up. How could a war happen without anyone being aware of it? Nothing adds up and deep down she knows that the only way the mystery will be solved is through the dreams themselves. Maybe once she has more evidence she can talk with James and Dumbledore and see if they have experienced anything similar. Her husband won't like it but that hardly seems to matter anymore. 

 

That night she makes sure to rock her son to sleep, it’s odd how much he resembles the one from the dream despite having a different father. Perhaps he was always meant to be hers, no matter who she decided to settle down with. She finds it hard to put him in his crib, something feels out of place. Perhaps it’s only the mounting anticipation for the dreams that will haunt her tonight.

 

Their bed is at least inviting and just like the last couple night she finds herself being held close. Tonight more than ever she takes comfort in the embrace and returns all the kisses easily. He takes it as an invitation and soon they are writhing beneath the sheets. It is always far easier to sleep after, and tonight is no exception. 

 

_ It is October 31st and the streets are just becoming deserted as everyone turns in for the night. She can’t help but focus on the setting sun and the shadows that it creates as it slips below the horizon. Everything is quiet for a few brief minutes before the chaos starts. James is running towards her with terror in his eyes, he tells her to run up stairs and protect their son. Voldemort has come and he only has time to run, and hopefully distract him long enough so she can get away.  _

 

_ It all clicks in her mind as she rushes up the stairs their secret keeper has betrayed them and now there is only time to run. Down below she can hear James scream and hears his body hit the floor with a thud. Everything is happening so fast that all she has time to do is rush in front of the crib before the door is yanked open. Voldemort stands there with a sickening smile on his face and she faces him not daring to back away from the crib.  _

 

_ He promises to spare her, all she has to do is step aside and let him finish what he set out to do. Whether he is telling the truth feels irrelevant she knows what she must do, as if all the dreams could only ever end this way. This is how it was always supposed to end with her protecting the one thing that mattered above all else.  _

 

_ The curse comes with a jolt of green light and she feels herself sinking to the ground as the world goes black.  _

 

Someone is shaking her and whipping her face as she is pulled from the dream, she can hear his familiar voice calling her name. The tears on her face could very well be either of theirs. Finally she can open her eyes and her lungs seem to fill with air once more. He is above her and the nightstand is lined with potions, she feels his hands touch her throat to make sure there really is a pulse. Once he has looked over her carefully he finally relaxes, settling beside her and demanding an explanation. 

 

There are many excuses she could make but something in the way he’s looking at her tells her that he won't believe any of them. Settling on the truth she recounts all the events of the dream watching his face shift from one emotion to the next. He has always been good at hiding his true feelings from everyone, everyone except her. Instead of just the horror she expected he looks as if he has been expecting it. 

 

Anger flares up inside and she can’t help but lash out. If he had known all along why not say anything? Months have gone by of notes and sketches and endless fruitless searches. Finally he tells her the truth.  

 

The dreams were all meant to be reality, visions of events that should have occurred but didn’t. A boy by the name of Tom Riddle would one day become the man known as Voldemort. He would have had the entire wizarding world cowering at the mere mention of his name. Countless people were lost, herself among them all because one man wanted to live forever. 

 

Deep down she knows before the tale is even finished where it is going Tom Riddle was killed before he could ever gain the power or influence to hurt so many people. It would be easier to believe that someone else was behind the change of events but that would be foolish. The only person that could possibly know all the details is the one that set the changes in motion. She becomes aware of the horror that must be written on her face when he stops talking. 

 

There are claims that he had no choice the alternative was much worse so many people had died. But she knows the only reason he cared was because of one death in particular, hers. What else  would have been different? James was clearly more important to her then a mere passing friendship in high school. The two men never did get along and thus the friendship had faded away as the years went on. Surly he had known that she was going to end up with James and had changed that for his benefit as well. 

 

He is still talking but she can’t bring herself to listen anymore, there are too many thoughts and too much anger. Instead it seems best to leave. Her legs carry her out without any thought as to where she might end up. It turns out to be a beautiful day which is rare for the beginning of November. The leaves crunch underfoot and without thought she raises her right hand into the air. It never takes long for the knight bus to arrive. 

 

It’s everything that she ever imagined it would be but rougher around the edges. The inside is full of unknown smells from all the desperate people and the only thing that seems to hold everything together is magic. They ask where she would like to go and the first thing that comes to mind ends up being the three broomsticks. Perhaps all the thoughts on the past have also brought up a desire to go back to one of her favorite places from that time of her life. 

 

After the few riders that boarded before her are off it comes to her turn and she doesn't hesitate to climb off tipping the driver on the way. Perhaps once inside she can relax and try to come to terms with everything, or at least live in the past for a couple hours. Most of the tables are unoccupied making it quieter than it had ever been in the past, but all the smells are the same and her favorite table is free. Just when she is getting comfortable and letting her mind wander a tall thin man comes and sits across from her. The screams come back in her head so clear after hearing them in the dream and her hand is clutching her wand under the table. 

 

He pulls his hood off and smiles apologetically she would recognize him anywhere, but why is Dumbledore here now? Did Severus anticipate this and send him here to keep an eye on her? The mere thought of him makes her blood boil. 

 

Instead of explaining his presence he simply strikes up a conversation on the most mundane things including the weather. It’s obvious from the look he is giving her that he is not going to inform her of his real intentions unless she changes the topic first. Brilliant though he is this tactic does nothing but push her over the edge just as it did so many others. Cutting him off mid sentence everything comes out in a rush of questions. Did you know I was supposed to die? Do you know who Tom Riddle was meant to be? How could you let Severus get away with this? Why didn’t you say anything sooner? After the barrage of questions the tears finally come. Instead of answers he offers to talk in a more private location. All she can do is nod and follow him outside. 

 

They walk through Diagon Alley and back up to Hogwarts because where else would he take her? The trek seems to drag on longer than it ever did in the past and she finds herself shivering in the harsh wind. Whatever he wishes to finally explain it is clearly important and judging from the looks that he keeps giving her it’s not going to be good. Eventually the old school looms out of the distance and a flood of memories resurface. It’s hard to focus on just one when so many things changed for her here. Privately she wonders if she will ever see Hogwarts the same way as she does right now. 

 

Fawks greets them when they enter the headmaster's office, and he gestures for her to talk a seat in front of the desk. She feels like a teenager once more trying to get away with something that she somehow got caught up in. He smiles at her and she wonders if he can see what she’s thinking. The answers come as they always do when you're talking to Dumbledore, slowly so that you can see the whole picture. The boy Tom Riddle would have grown up to commit all those horrible crimes if he had lived past the age of eleven. Severus had stolen a time turner right out from the very office she is sitting in the moment he found out about her death. Of course Dumbledore knew and provided the information needed to go back to the right time. He had seen the alternative and it seemed the only way to end the war with the least amount of bloodshed. 

 

They both knew that there was a chance that she would find out about the events that were meant to take place but it seemed more important to just enjoy the second chance. No one else has had any dreams or sudden recognition of the events they are discussing, not even James. He believes that perhaps it is because her love played such a large part in the events, that it was impossible for her to not be connected in some way. The way he says this makes the unsettling feelings from before the dreams started resurface. Was her life always meant to end in sacrifice, just a small pawn in a much bigger story? Even now she is only given a second chance because of love, or whatever idea Severus has constructed to equate love. 

 

They say their goodbyes and he tells her that she is always welcome to come back and talk if she needs to. Politeness is easy enough to fake and she slips away back to the grounds and Diagon Alley just beyond. Night is all around making the cold that much worse and even huddling in on herself it seems to shake her to the core. She knows where she is meant to go but that doesn't make it any easier. 

 

It’s completely dark out by the time she reaches her destination, everything looks the way it was left earlier that day. The quiet is unsettling though not unexpected for this time of night. Each room is vacant and she finds leftovers in the kitchen and blankets on the couch. A light is still on in the bedroom and that’s where she finds herself walking. 

 

Severus is reading through a book on potions and it suddenly strikes her as odd that it’s not about the dark arts. At Hogwarts he had always had such a passion for the subject, it wasn’t until she insisted that he focus on other things that he distanced himself from it. At least that’s what she thinks happened, who knows what else was altered. 

 

His eyes glance at her and she knows that he is waiting for her to break the silence while still maintaining an air of interest in the book. The door is silently closed as she takes in a deep breath and walks forward. They have known each other for so long that it’s easy to read the tension in his body and the downcast look to his eyes. He’s waiting for the unavoidable end to come and giving her the chance to choose it. 

 

The tears burn in her eyes once more and her throat tightens as she finally breaks the quiet. Instead of words full of anger there is nothing but regret and hurt, it seems odd that today is the first day she would have missed if everything had followed the expected path. She should be gone with nothing but an imprint and the kind words of others left, instead she stands alive and confused. 

 

He is finally looking at her unashamed and everything is reflected back at her in those black eyes. Love was always something just out of reach for him and it eludes him still. In that moment she knows that it wouldn’t matter if she walked out he would be content with the knowledge that she is alive. Tears are forming in his eyes now and she finds herself torn between what to do next. Deep down she aches to reach out and comfort him but that seems insane after everything. In the end her feelings win out and she finds herself wrapping him up in a tight embrace. He clutches her like he will never see her again and she finds herself patting the tangled mess of his hair. 

 

It doesn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep with his head on her shoulder, they somehow ended up laying on the bed. Despite all the thoughts rushing through her head she finds herself falling asleep, they can figure everything out in the morning. That night she dreams of nothing.  


End file.
